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The ancient wolf she sits leashing.
About stubborn men, and a time that has passed.
But like the water, it is sorrow she tells.
A call came to me from a ancient time.
I speak to you because you are the dirty one.
Your blood runs black from the sunless land.
As the heir of Loki, you have blood on your cloak.
For the Betrayer's shame flows into your hand.
Everyone as one has seen your dreams.
About men who lie dead and a cock that is black.
For a warrior you are born, that's what you were given.
Is that why you wake up every single night?
I hear your voice and the sound is gloomy you travel with logs, you seedy vette.< br/>I wake at night to fight the battle.
In the spirit of the gods on the lifeless plain.
The stench of Valhalla fills your blood.
But you not descended from noble men.
Thoughts of hatred and an upright will.
For you are the Betrayer's faithful friend.
A corpse that you love is what you reconcile.
She bound you to her with the coercion of the witches.
Like Nighogg she drained your blood and your soul.
For she did not hear your sorrow in your song.
I see that you are alive, but soon it's over.
You are only shown to mockery and to scorn.
Your death was probably written on the witch's page
My tears rolled, while she could laugh.